Tom
by Ebenbild
Summary: Have you ever wondered about Tom, the innkeeper of The Leaky Cauldron? What did he do when Harry had his adventure? Which side was he on and who did he help? So let's meet Tom and the secret that even Dumbledore doesn't know.
1. Speaking with an empty room

_**Disclaimer: **__Harry Potter belongs to Rowling. I just played with some of her characters. I will give them back (nearly) unharmed._

_**Information: **__I start the story in third year. There will be some major time skips because I will just tell the important things that happen to my main character. I'm not changing anything in the normal plot of the Harry Potter series. This is just a story about a random character and its part in the war._

_I'm not a native speaker so sorry for my mistakes. It would be great to tell me my major ones so that I can get better._

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**Tom**

_1. Speaking with an empty room_

His name was Tom. No-one ever asked anything further. His name was Tom, innkeeper. He was the owner of _The Leaky Cauldron. _There was nothing more to it. He was bald, he had no teeth and he had a crooked posture. There was nothing more to that silent man, who seemed to be old as hills.

So there was no-one ever asking anything about him. The common wizard greeted him before entering Diagon Alley, sometimes they would stop and have a non-saying chat with him. Some of them would book one of his rooms or eat in his inn.

The powerful wizards were a little bit different though. Tom wasn't a very good wizard. He was able to do some cleaning spells or other ones that would come handy for an inn. But he definitely never had been to Hogwarts, so he could not be a very powerful wizard… so the most powerful, good wizards just looked down on his abilities.

Dark and powerful wizards instead mostly ignored him. When there was Grindelwald, he never thought about that old inn which guarded the entrance of Diagon Alley and when there was Voldemort for the first time, he did the same. The innkeeper never officially worked on one side of the war and so he was a risk taken by both sides.

But most of the wizards never saw that risk at all.

They came, they talked, they walked away, never aware of the eavesdropping ears behind the counter, never aware of the sealed lips and the sharp eyes watching.

But sometimes there were times when the innkeeper would change his behaviour. Sometimes the sealed lips would speak wisdom, the sharp eyes would turn blind and the eavesdropping ears would get deaf. And sometimes the everlasting innkeeper would change his place with another person.

"You are taking too much risk, my dear one." The innkeeper said one evening in the summer. He had his eyes on the glasses in his cupboard so that no-one could see the normally inconspicuous blue eyes glimmer in the dark. It was just out of habit that he was looking away. The inn was empty. No human being had crossed it's doorstep for the last three hours. Just a black, bony dog had entered the inn half an hour ago.

The old innkeeper had welcomed it with some water and some meat.

"You should take a different road. You could use your memories and convince them. The young Dumbledore would hear you out, I'm sure about it." Tom, the innkeeper said while searching for a glass to polish it.

All his glasses where shining, but that didn't stop the old innkeeper from polishing each of them again.

The dog had started to look at Tom when he started to speak.

"Yes, I'm talking to you, my dear." Tom said and gestured to a chair at the counter. "Come and sit down. You look like you need a break."

Now the dog's behaviour turned wary of the old man. Distrust started to show in its eyes.

"Don't look at me like that." The innkeeper sighted. "When you want, I can lock the door. The next guest will not come for a while so I thought now is the best time to talk to you. And don't worry. I know who you are and I know what you did – or should I say didn't?"

The dog stood up and came nearer but it still hesitated.

"Now, now, my boy. Where is your Gryffindor courage? There is no way Sirius Black is wary of an old man without a wand."

When Tom said this, the dog growled and changed. Where the dog stood before, was now a man in prison clothing.

The innkeeper wasn't impressed at all. Instead of that he put down the glass he had been working on and searched for a bottle of whiskey which he poured into it.

After that he pushed it to the man in front of the counter.

"How did you know?" The man croaked, still wary of the innkeeper.

"I simply knew." The other one replied. "You shouldn't go after your prey. Show them your memories. Go to young Dumbledore for help. Do anything but that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sirius Black said stubbornly.

"You know as good as I."

"No, enlighten me, please."

Tom sighted again after these words. He knew his advice would be heard by deaf ears but he wanted to try anyway.

"I don't have to enlighten you." He said. "But I will tell you a story I heard years ago."

"A story?!" The younger man raised one of his eyebrows.

"Yes, a story" The innkeeper replied before starting with said tale.

"Thirteen years ago there were three people in this room. One of them a dog, one of them a stag, and one… a lily." He started his tale. "The stag and the lily wanted to hide some… thing from… a snake. The dog should be the one to hide it. He refused because he knew the snake would search it by him at first. So he convinced the stag and the lily to hide the… thing with the rat… It was the wrong choice and now the dog is after the rat."

After he ended the man stayed silence.

"I would testify for you." Tom whispered. It was an offer he didn't do lightly.

"You would?"

"I would."

"I will not take your offer."

Tom had known that this answer would come.

"You should sleep it over." He said. "And you should visit your godson. Maybe after that you will take it." Tom knew his words would not change the man's mind. He also knew that seeing his godson wouldn't change anything. Still, he had to try. Because sometimes just a little action would change something. He would not be able to change this choice of the man in front of him, but he would change the focus of the man a little bit. Until now, the man had just been driven by revenge. But maybe, when he saw his godson he would at least think about him when his hunt was over.

"I will have to leave now. I'm here far too long." The other one answered.

"Then finish your drink." The innkeeper answered while clicking his finger against the glass.

"I thought you would press for it more."

"There is no way to change your mind." The innkeeper replied. "To get you to stay and sleep over it I would have to drug you."

"Maybe."

"So when I tell you that the aurors of the ministry started looking for you in muggle London and that they will catch you when you leave now is not enough to convince you to stay?"

"No." Sirius replied.

"I thought so." Tom answered and tipped again against the drink. "Drink up then, lad." The younger man obeyed.

"Thank you for letting me stay." He said after that while standing up and changing.

"You should come again when you have nowhere to stay." The innkeeper replied while watching the dog. The animal nodded and walked to the door. It still hadn't reached it when it suddenly started to sway. A few steps more and its legs gave away. Within a few seconds it was lying on the floor sleeping.

"I'm sorry, my dear one." Tom said to the sleeping dog while letting it with a simple gesture flow to a dark corner of the room. "But I think this is the best for you in the moment." With that he washed the used glass and started to polish it, after it was clean. He polished it thoroughly and then shattered it on the counter.

The pieces of the glad vanished into thin air and the glittering blue eyes of the innkeeper became inconspicuous blue again. The faint sense of magic that came from the dog-wizard and the performed magic of the innkeeper and that still lingered in the air vanished.

And while the aurors of the ministry where checking every street of London, searching for the slightest sense of magic, the wizard they were searching lay sleeping and safe in the corner of the inn, unaware of the help he had been given by the old innkeeper of _The Leaky Cauldron._

In the afternoon finally an auror entered the inn and searched there also for suspicious traces of magic.

"Has there been something unusual today?" He asked Tom.

"Just business like usual, my dear." The innkeeper replied.

"Has anyone used magic in here today?"

"There were a few _accio, _a _lumos _and some flooing but nothing more." Tom replied while watching the auror who searched the room.

"The dog?"

"Is a street dog. It comes from time to time to sleep in the corner. I've been watching it for years."

The auror still searched the sleeping animal for any traces of magic, but there were none. "No animagi then" The auror whispered. "Of course not." Tom sighted. "I thought you were looking for Black. He isn't an animagi, is he?"

"No, but better safe than sorry." The other one replied while performing an _animagus revelio _on the animal. Nothing happened.

"Like I said, just a street dog." Tom said shrugging.

"Yes." The other one replied and started to look around more. But as much as he was searching, he found nothing else than a sleeping dog and a nearly Squib behind the counter.

"Good day, my dear." Tom wished the auror when he left. And when the door finally closed the inconspicuous blue eyes of the innkeeper suddenly started again to glow in the dark of the inn. "Come and visit again."

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_What do you think? How do you like Tom and Sirius? Are they ok?_


	2. A special whiskey

_And a second chapter. This time it's dear Fudge to visit. It's still summer in year three._

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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**2. A special whiskey**

There were not a lot of passages between the muggle and the magical world. And there were even less which were easy to reach. One of the easiest was _The Leaking Cauldron _in London. Nearly every witch and wizard knew this entrance to Diagon Alley. So nearly every wizard knew Tom, the innkeeper. And of course Tom knew nearly every wizard and he also knew all the stuff that was happening in both worlds: the muggle one and the magical one.

So when little, thirteen year old Harry blew up his aunt, Minister Fudge went to _The Leaking Cauldron. _

Tom had known that the minister would visit. He also knew beforehand that the minister came to look for the missing boy. Of course, no-one had told him the minister would come. And of course no-one had also told him, that the boy-who-lived went missing. But he knew that something was amiss and so he was not at all surprised when the minister entered his inn.

And when he did, Tom knew he would have to calm down the minister. There was no way that the nearly petrified man would find the boy now.

"Minister Fudge" Tom greeted and the Minister startled.

"Tom" He finally said while still scanning every inch of the empty inn as if the boy would be hiding in one of Tom's glasses.

"What brings you here, my dear" The innkeeper asked.

"I was looking for someone" Fudge answered but wasn't willed to say more. Tom knew this reluctant behaviour. He had seen it a lot of times on different people. The minister wanted to share but was afraid of the reaction of the other. But there was an instrument to get the nervous man to speak.

"You like a drink, Minister?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I have no time to…"

"Just one whiskey, my dear one, there is always time for a whiskey." With that, the innkeeper turned and fetched one of his best whiskeys. One of his special whiskeys. He had few of them, each of them for a special customer. Each of them used just a few times. There were different brands of each special whiskey and he picked one for the minister. He knew the minister liked this particular brand so when he showed the bottle to the other person, he knew he had won.

"But just a glass" The minister said, still looking around. "After that I will be on my way again."

"Maybe there will be no need to go on, my dear" Tom answered and filled a glass. "Take your time, minister. There is no rush today."

The minister eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. Instead he sat down and took his whiskey. He took it and started to drown it but stopped in the middle of the action. He blinked and stared at the whiskey. Tom said nothing, instead he started to polish his shining glasses. He watched the minister staring at the glass and finally starting to savour his drink. Tom grinned. He waited a few mouthful of whiskey until he started to speak again.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, minister" He said.

"I have" The other one answered. "There is Black on the run, there is Harry who went missing a few hours ago…"

Nothing new for the innkeeper but it wasn't the first time he heard a story again and it wouldn't definitely the last time for him.

"The boy will show up again, minister. Do not worry about that."

"The question is: how will he look, when he shows up again. With Black on the run there…"

"The boy will be fine. Do not think otherwise." The innkeeper reassured the worried man.

"But…"

"Drink up, minister, and look for yourself. I'm sure the boy will be back safe in no time." Tom said, knowing the minister wouldn't believe him now. But he would believe him later.

The minister starred at him after these words, then he drowned the rest of his whiskey and stood up. Tom followed him when he started to leave the inn.

"You will tell me if Harry Potter…" The minister started and stopped midsentence when suddenly the _Knight-_Bus stopped in front of the inn.

Tom grinned when he saw Harry leaving the bus. He said nothing and just watched while the minister greeted the boy.

"Back to business" He thought. "Back to business as usual." The waiting time for the boy was over.

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_So, how do you like "my" Fudge?_


	3. A rat at the counter

_**Disclaimer: **__Harry Potter belongs to Rowling. I just played with some of her characters. I will give them back (nearly) unharmed._

_XxxxxxxxxxxxtomtomtomxxxxxxxxxxX_

_3. A rat at the counter_

It was June again. The school-year in Hogwarts had ended and Diagon Alley had once again a lot of people to visit. A lot of parents spent the sunny weekend with their children in Fortunescu or other places in Diagon Alley.

Even the _Leaking Cauldron_ had more guests than usual. Most of them were just passing guests who weren't buying anything but some of them had lunch or something to drink at the inn before or after entering Diagon Alley. When lunchtime started that day, a lot of people had stopped by to eat something. That was a little bit unusual but not all together special. Tom could manage some lunchtime guests.

Of course no-one ever asked Tom how he was able to prepare lunch for so many people. The most of his guests probably thought that Tom had some house-elves working in the kitchen. They also probably thought that he had some house-elves for cleaning and preparing the rooms. Tom let them believe that and a lot of other things. He never contradicted any of those rumours. He wasn't interested in correcting these rumours. There were different reasons for not contradicting those rumours. One of them was that Tom didn't like to explain how he was able to run his inn without help. Another one was that Tom would have to contradict a lot of other rumours to explain himself. So he took it simple and stayed silent.

So, while a lot of people came to the inn for lunch, Tom took their order and after that returned behind his counter, not bothering to look into his kitchen. Behind the counter, Tom started to look through his glasses and bottles. Without further thinking he selected a shining glass – not different from all the others for all people but Tom – and some of his different liquids. Without hesitation he mixed the different liquids in the chosen glass. After that, he looked at the new formed liquid for a moment and then shattered the glass on his counter.

A fog like cloud emerged from the counter and encased the old innkeeper. No-one in the inn registered the fog. And while the men, women and children were sitting at the tables and the counter, the old, startling magic of the innkeeper took place. Food and drinks started to prepare themselves out of thin air.

Of course, nobody was able to transfigure food out of thin air. But nobody was Tom and the ritualistic magic he was using had nothing to do with the wand-waving stiff the others were doing.

And while Tom left his counter to serve the different meals to the different people in the room, his magic wavered through the room, enclosing the people and taking their sorrows so that they were able to forget while they were eating.

Laughter and happiness started to fill the room.

Tom instead returned to the counter as if nothing had happened. There, at his counter, in the darkest part of his inn, was standing another man. He was pressing himself into the corner as if he was hiding.

"Hello, my dear" Tom greeted the rat-like man. "It's nice to see you again, sweetheart."

The other stared at him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. There is nobody who would tell that you are here." Tom again searched for a shining glass and started to polish it. "What do you like to drink?"

"I…" The man's voice was trembling. "I… You know who I am?!"

"'Course, sweetheart, of course."

"You… you shouldn't know!"

"I shouldn't." Tom answered sincerely. "Maybe I shouldn't. But I won't tell. I never do, young rat, I never do."

The man at the counter shuddered.

"How?" he whispered. "How do you…?"

"…know?" Tom finished. "I just know. Like I know what you did. You know… to the stag, the lily and the dog."

The man shuddered again.

"You shouldn't know!" He squeaked. "You definitely shouldn't know! No-one…"

"No, sweetheart, not no-one. I'm sure, there are some people who know. And you know that."

Now the rat-man looked even more nervous. "But… but there shouldn't be anyone else…"

Tom just looked at the man.

"I talked to Sirius Black." He finally said. The rat-man shuddered.

"I won't tell." Tom sighted. "But you should think about your future now. There are roads you might be able to go, but you should think about the consequences when you take them."

"I know which road to go!" the rat-man squeaked. "Don't try to tell me!"

"I don't try." Tom said. "It's your life. Just think about it."

The rat-man growled. "You are annoying, old man."

"That's the privilege of the old." Tom answered. "Your debt is deep. The boy has rescued your life. Think about that. It's a life-debt."

"I don't need you to tell me that. I don't need you for anything! I know my way!"

"You will go searching for your lord." The old innkeeper replied. "And you will succeed. Just don't forget that there will always be a boy who had your life between his hands and didn't take it."

"That…"

"It's alright. There is nothing to talk about. It was just a reminder for your journey."

"M…my journey…?"

"Go, sweetheart, go and follow your nose. You will find what you are searching for. I can't stop you. Just look back once in a while and remember. Maybe than you will have a second chance to right the wrong you have committed in your life. It will not be enough, but it will be enough for you to find peace."

At that point the man jumped to his feet, starring with fear in his eyes at Tom.

"Whoever you are – stay away from me!" He cried and fled. Not two feet from Tom away he turned into a rat and crawled out on the streets of Muggle-London, just barely being missed by several feet.

Tom sighted and shook his head. As if he would ever interfere with destiny…

"I just tried to help you, my boy." He said. Then he searched for a rug and started to polish the counter-part where the rat had been. Fine dust started to flow in the air and sparkled in the dimmed light. Within a minute the dust had filled every corner of the room. No-one noticed but a minute later no-one remembered ever seeing a man in the corner of the bar.

Tom grinned.

"One day you will thank me for convincing you to think about your dept." Tom said. "Of course, this will not take place until your death. But even than – that's fast enough."

After whispering this words, Tom stopped speaking, shook his head again than he returned to his everyday work. There were mouth to feet and no time to think about this little mage that would have an important role in the fate of the wizarding-world. He would be the one to start the horror again. But there was no other way, Tom knew it.

"I hope that one day you will be able to forgive yourself for your fate. I will not hold it against you. Pray that you will stay blended from power. You will not forgive yourself when return back to reality."


	4. Fudged again

_And another chapter. This time it's again dear Fudge to visit. It's, like the last one, summer between year three and four._

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_4. Fudged again_

The summer was hot. Just a few days ago a rat had come to the inn, trying to hide. Now, there was another rather shadowy figure in the inn. Of course, for the most people of the wizardry world, the figure in front of him was a respectable man.

"Minister Fudge" Tom greeted the man neutrally. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm fine, Tom, I'm fine." The minister replied. "I came to ask you some questions."

"So do so, my dear." Tom replied and took out another glass to polish. "What is it about? The coming World Cup? Black? I will not be able to say a lot to both. I am an innkeeper after all, not some Auror."

"Nothing like that" Fudge replied. "Nothing like that."

"I know, that you are an old fellow, Tom, so do you know about the Tri-Wizard-Tournament? Do you maybe remember the last one?"

"I am old, minister", Tom replied. "But my age has nothing to do with knowing the Tournament. I however know indeed of it. But why are you asking?"

"Just interest, Tom, just interest." Fudge replied. "So what in tasks had the students to compete in?"

"Several", Tom answered. "Dragons, mazes et cetera et cetera… But I can't tell for sure. I have never been at Hogwarts, minister."

"I'm sorry" the minister cried horrified. "I did not know you were a Squib."

Tom sighted at this assumption.

Then he took out a filigree stick from his sleeves. His wand.

Tom knew, Fudge had never seen the old, weathered wand.

"I'm not a Squib, minister" he said and put his wand away again before Fudge could grasp more than a glimpse of it. "I just never went to Hogwarts."

"But… but…"

"There are always special circumstances." Tom interrupted. "There is nothing you have to know about this, minister."

"Er… yes…"

There was silent for a moment while Tom polished his glass.

"So… the Tournament" Fudge started again. "There are three tasks, aren't there."

"There are." Tom hesitantly replied.

"And the students were chosen by the Goblet of Fire…"

"You shouldn't go there, minister" Tom interrupted Fudge. "You really shouldn't go there."

"But…"

"The Goblet of Fire is a foul magical object. It is no fit to use on students to lure them in a contract."

"We are luring no-one in a contract!" Fudge hissed. "The Goblet of Fire is a necessary object for the Tri-Wizard-Tournament!"

"And you shouldn't start the Tournament again."

"You… I… we…!"

"Please here me out, minister!"

"I…I…"

"Hear me out! When you reinstate the Tournament, it will not be entertainment at all! It will end badly, I promise you." Tom continued as if Fudge had said nothing at all.

"I… we… we do not plan to…!"

"Don't try to deny it, minister." Tom interrupted again. "Please, just think about it! I do not want something to difficult."

But he knew that pleading was wasted on the man before him. The imbecile had already decided.

Tom sighted.

"You… you… That's not your business, innkeeper!" Fudge finally screamed. "You will not question my decisions! I am the minister! I am allowed to let this Tournament take place! I asked just for the tasks the last one used!"

"So you are willing to sacrifice a student to a little bit of entertainment! You are willing to let return something foul to this world when the tournament is used differently!" Tom replied coldly. "Think about it, Fudge…!"

"Something foul?!"

"The Tournament can be used to abduct a student for some foul games. It can end in the return of something you don't want to have returned!"

"The students are save!"

"The students are barely save now – they will never be save when half of the world is stomping through their school!"

"Whoever you are, you are not Tom, the innkeeper!" Fudge replied still screaming. "You are an imposer! The innkeeper had never dared…!"

Tom through the glass he was holding and it shattered in front of the minister's feet. The minister blinked at the glass. Then the broken fragments dissolved to blue, glimmering mist.

It took just a minute, then it was gone and the minister stared puzzled at Tom.

"Good Day, minister" Tom said. "What can I do for you today?"

"I came to ask some questions today" Fudge finally replied.

"So sit and ask away."

And with that, Tom took another glass out of the cupboard behind the counter and began to polish it.

He knew now the minister would never see the lifes he was going to destroy. He would be blind as long as he could.

Tom inwardly sighted.

"You will have a hard time, cutie" he finally whispered, stealing a glance to the stairway that led to his own room and one other. "A very hard time."


	5. Warning the innkeeper

_This time it's an old known fellow to visit. It's summer at the end of year four._

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_5. Warning the innkeeper_

The _Leaking Cauldron _had guests like usual. They were talking, eating and passing by. Some of them were reading the newspaper, filled with the end of the Tri-Wizard-Tournament and the death of the Diggory boy.

Every now and then there were also rumours. Of Dumbledore, of the Boy-Who-Lived, of the death of the Diggory boy, et cetera et cetera…

Some of the rumours also consisted of the return of a certain Dark Lord. These where the rumours the most of them laughed at, non of them willing to think that they might be true.

Tom wasn't concerned.

Even if it was true, even if young Tom Riddle had returned, Tom, the innkeeper, wasn't worried.

No Dark Lord had ever been interested in the old inn. It was not very strategically placed and had no benefits to either side. So it had been a neutral zone since the beginning of Diagon Alley.

Of course, the inn as a neutral zone was a risk. Not just for the dark, but also for the light side. Being unable to fight in the inn was part of the risk, ambushed after leaving the neutral zone another. Still, _The Leaking Cauldron _had been a neutral zone ever since creation.

Nevertheless there was someone wouldn't think about letting that be a risk again. So just a few days after the return of Voldemort, a different powerful wizard visited this particular inn.

"Hello, Tom! How are you doing?" He greeted, while entering the dimmed main room of _The Leaking Cauldron._

"Headmaster Dumbledore. What a pleasure to meet you!"

"No need to be formal, my friend, no need to be formal." The headmaster answered. "So, how are you doing?"

"I can't complain, Headmaster, I can't complain. But how are you?"

And while the headmaster was talking but saying nothing, the innkeeper was standing behind his bar, polishing shining glasses. His eyes were fixed on the tired face of the old man in front of him. Something had happened at Hogwarts, he guessed.

"You should rest a few hours" he said when the headmaster finished talking "you seem to be tired."

"There is no time to rest, my friend" The other one said. "So much has happened and suddenly there is no time left anymore…"

"Still, you should make yourself some time" Tom answered, while he didn't stop with his starring.

"I should, shouldn't I?"

"Whatever happened, forget it for some hours and rest." This was one advice the innkeeper often gave to people.

"I cannot rest" The headmaster answered. "There is so much to do now."

"Now?" It was a question and an implication to go on.

"Now, after Voldemort's return" The answer came.

"So that's why you're here, headmaster."

"Yes."

"You don't have to warn me, my dear one. Voldemort isn't interested in my inn."

"He might not" The headmaster sighted. "But just because he spared you in the first war, there is no guarantee that he will spare you this time, too."

"There isn't" The innkeeper replied while changing the glass he was polishing. "But there is also no way that he will ever do something to the inn, its guests or its keeper."

The headmaster sighted after hearing these words. "He won't spare you this time around. This time he will make sure not to let stay anyone independent."

"He will" Old Tom replied. "But that's fine with me."

"So you are willing to serve Voldemort?"

Now Tom chuckled. "You are too scared for your own good, kid" He replied. "Let him come. I will be there. He might destroy Diagon Alley. He might destroy London. But that doesn't mean he will ever destroy my inn."

"Your inn isn't indestructible."

"Definitely not." The innkeeper replied. "But do not worry, my dear one. There is no way _The Leaking Cauldron _will perish in the next few month. You have enough to worry about. Just forget this humble place. You, my dear, have to think for the greater good."

"Yes, I have." The headmaster sighted. "But still, there are few who believe my words."

"There will come more."

"Yes, there will. At least when it's too late…"

"There is a vacant bed upstairs" This time Tom said nothing to the words of the headmaster. "Go up and have a little rest."

"I have no time to rest."

"Then relax, just for a few moments." Tom suggested.

"That might be possible" The headmaster replied.

"So how about a drink while relaxing?"

The headmaster hesitated a moment, then he nodded.

"Why not. But nothing too strong, Tom, please."

When the headmaster told this, Tom turned and reached in one of his cupboards. In it, there was an unlabelled vial. He took it out and without the headmaster seeing it, he shared three drops of the liquid with the whiskey he had filled the headmaster.

"Here, drink up, my dear." He said and put down the whiskey glass in front of Dumbledore. The headmaster eyed the drink suspiciously before he drowned it in one go.

"That's my boy" The innkeeper murmured while he watched the other one closely. The headmaster put down the glass again. A few seconds he seemed to look into nothingness, then his eyes started to close slowly.

"There you go, my boy." And while Tom started with cleaning the next shining glass, Headmaster Dumbledore fell asleep on the counter of the bar.

"There you go."

And while people busily entered and left _The Leaking Cauldron _for the rest of the afternoon, unnoticed to them, lay the white head of the headmaster on the counter, filled with pleasant dreams and peace.

Later he might wake again, grumpy because of losing a whole afternoon sleeping but unable to accuse Tom of putting him to sleep.

But for now, Tom was standing behind the counter, watching the people passing, while looking out for the dreams of the old man, sleeping pleasantly the first time in weeks.


	6. The boy at the counter

_This time it's a boy to visit – well, for Tom it's still a boy. It's still summer at the end of year four._

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_6. The boy at the counter_

While the most wizards never had a clue about Tom there were a few who knew more than just what everyone knew. These few often tented to trust him more than other people. They were mostly people who had great secrets themselves so the things they knew about Tom were save with them.

"Tom, I need my room." The words were spoken in a whispered voice. The person who spoke them stood in the shadows. No other customer had noticed this person and the quiet voice told Tom that it should stay like this.

"It's ready" Tom answered without looking up from his glass. "Do you need a whiskey?"

"More likely two" the other one answered while gliding to the secret stairs. These stairs normally weren't used by customers. They were leading to Tom's private rooms and some others for those people he trusted the most. There were just three in his lifetime that ever had the right to enter these rooms. One of them was the man who answered his question now. "Hard liquor, please."

With that he vanished upstairs. Tom sighted and searched for some glasses. With skilled movements he polished the shining glasses while thinking back to his first meeting with the man in the chamber upstairs.

It had been more than fourteen years ago. At this point in time the man had barely been a man at all. He was young, he had been a fool, but he still had been someone who could be trusted, even if no-one thought about trusting him at all.

He had come to the inn one evening, dressed in black and with a face that showed nothing.

"Hello, my boy, how are you?" Tom had greeted him.

"I'm fine." The ton of the boy's voice had been sour and he had looked not happy at all. "I'm sorry, I have to go on." With that he had tried to slip away to Diagon Alley. But his calculations had been made without Tom.

"You seem not fine to me." The old innkeeper had said. "Sit down and have a drink. You look like you need some rest."

"I'm fine." The other one replied and didn't look pleased at all when Tom fetched one of his special whiskeys and poured him a drink.

"It's on the house." Tom reassured the young man. "Now sit down for a moment and relax." This time the boy had obeyed him.

He had sat down and taken the glass. But he had stopped while moving the glass to his lips. "A sleeping draught?" He had asked and had put the glass back on the counter. "Don't think I'm an imbecile like all the others you have tricked before. A potion master like me does know his draughts!"

"Just a light one, my boy" Tom had replied. "So you are an Occlumens."

The boy in front of him had raised an eyebrow at that.

"Recognising a sleeping draught has nothing to do with Occlumency, you fool."

"I know." Tom replied. "I used a light illusion so that you wouldn't notice the potion."

"Then your illusion was erroneous. It was good for nothing at all, quite a disaster."

"Oh, you're wrong about that, youngster." Tom answered smiling. "My illusion would have fooled Salazar Slytherin himself."

"To me it seemed quite flawed. Maybe your skills aren't as good as you wish they were."

At that time the young wizard had piqued Tom's interest. It had been long ago when another wizard had been able to see through the illusion Tom was creating. And never before he had found someone who was able to break through his creation with so much ease that the breaker himself was unable to tell what he was doing.

"You seem to be a natural Occlumens, my boy."

"I trained like every other person, innkeeper, so stop talking about skills."

"And you seem to be unaware of your own capability."

At that the young boy met Tom's eyes with disbelief.

"There are wizards much greater than me, and you are telling me _I _should be more capable of Occlumency than all of them? Are you out of your mind, old man?!"

"Maybe, lad." Tom admitted. "Maybe."

Then he paused.

"May I ask you something, cutie?"

The other one raised an eyebrow. Tom took this sign to continue.

"What do I look like?"

The other one stared at him as if he had proven himself insane. Tom could not argue with this stare. It sounded insane to ask this question.

"Don't you have a mirror, old man?" The boy spat.

"I do." Tom answered. "But believe me, my question is important. Please answer it."

The question indeed was important. The boy himself seemed not to have a clue about his own powers and Tom needed to know how strong they really were. The easiest way to get this information was to ask this particular question.

Apparently the boy seemed to understand that there was more to this question as it seemed. He cocked his head and starred with inscrutable eyes at Tom's face.

"There is more to it than you are saying." He finally guessed.

"There may be." Tom answered smiling.

After this confession, the boy sighted.

"I understand." He said. "I will describe you."

Again silence fell between them. Tom waited. He knew the boy was collecting his thoughts. He would not pressure him. He had time. He knew the boy was brooding over the reason of Tom's request. Tom forbade that the boy would not understand his reasons but he let him be. The boy seemed also to think about his answer. The looks he was giving Tom were cautious but keen.

"You're tall" The boy finally said, choosing to answer the innkeeper. "You have blue eyes." Nothing special so far. That were things others also would say.

""Your nose seemed ones have been broken." The boy continued. "You have a scar, going through your left eyebrow, leaving the eye out and continuing on your cheek." The boy's hand was tracing the scar on his own cheek. Tom blinked.

"I have?" He asked astonished.

"Yes." The boy knitted his eyebrows. "You do. Why are you asking me this? I thought you have a mirror, old man."

"I do." Tom assured, but chose to stay silent about the rest. "Please continue."

The boy now regarded Tom with suspicion, but he finally did what he was asked.

"You have red, shoulder-length hair and a long red beard."

"You have keen eyes" Tom sighted after he heard the description of himself. "Indeed. Very keen eyes. One of the keenest I've ever seen."

"You're kidding me, old man" The boy said grinding his teeth. "I'm not a fool. What are you planning?!"

"Nothing, cutie, nothing." Tom answered. "I just stated the truth. You _have _keen eyes. They are so keen you even are unable to see that I stated the truth."

"What are you talking about, imbecile?" The boy answered. "I just said what you are looking like. There is nothing special about!"

"There is." Tom sighted. "I know it doesn't look like something special. But it is. There is no-one in this world except of you who would describe me like that."

When he said that the boy starred at him.

"That's a joke." He finally sneered.

"No." Tom simply said.

"No?" The sneer on the boy's face vanished.

"No."

"Then why do I see you like that?"

"You are an Occlumens, that's why."

"There are others than me."

"Yes, there are." Tom answered. "And no, there aren't. There are other Occlumens, but there is no-one like you. I've met a lot of people in my life. There were some that were stronger. There were a lot that were weaker. The stronger, they were able to see me like you said after some training with me. The other could train centuries and would never see me like that. But you are the first that saw me like that without training with me first."

Now, the boy hesitated.

"How do they see you normally?" He finally asked.

"They see me as an old man with crocked posture, teeth-less and bald.

"But why?"

"Because I want to be seen like that." Tom replied.

"Who are you?!" The boy nearly interrupted him.

"A very old man, cutie, a very old man." Tom replied, smiling. "When you ever need help, come to me, I will provide it for you."

The boy had been reluctant, but he had come again, and again, and again…

First just to chat. Then to treat his injuries. Then to confess his sins.

Here at the counter he had broken down after he betrayed the trust of his loved one. Here he had sought comfort after turning to the light. Here he had cried his heart out after losing what he had loved the most.

And now he was back.

Injured, alone, without on except of Tom and a burden too heavy to carry by himself.

Tom sighted and purred the drinks. One for healing, one for pain and sleep.

"One day I will lose you cutie. I will lose you to the 'better' ones." Tom stared at the drinks before him. "And when I do, pray that the 'better' one will already be dead or I swear you, I will kill him myself."

And with that he picked up the glasses to bring them to the injured man-boy in the hidden room above him.


	7. Toms All Around

_And another chapter. This time it's the summer between fifth and sixth year and Voldemort is openly acting. I am not sure that my plot really happened at that time, but I don't have the books to look it up. So sorry if I am wrong and that normally happens later. If it does, just pretend it happened between fifth and sixth year because if it doesn't my story would not fit anymore…_

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_7. Toms all around_

The time passed on. Tom heard rumours about the return of the Dark Lord. He had rumours that Dumbledore was insane and Potter wasn't far off. He had rumours about Dementors in Little Whiningen and toad's at Hogwarts. He had rumours about a break in the Department of Mysteries and the dead of Sirius Black and he shook his head tiredly, having enough of giving advice that was ignored.

Then it was official. The Dark Lord had returned.

Fudge had come to Diagon Alley. Trembling and speaking of the greatness and power of the ministry.

Tom just had shaken his head once more and had returned to polishing his glasses.

He did not fear the coming. He did not fear the future.

And so he was calm when finally Death Eaters decided to visit Diagon Alley to destroy it. He did not fear them. He did fear nothing that they could bring on him.

So he just stood there, polishing glasses.

The Death Eater where in the middle of destroying Diagon Alley. While they flew on brooms and shooting curses, there was no curse that hit the inn.

Instead Voldemort himself was entering the old and dark inn.

"Young Tom, I see. How do I come to this major honour, my dear?" Tom, the innkeeper greeted the Dark Lord.

"You seemed not aware of your standing, innkeeper." The Dark Lord hissed.

"My standing?" Tom asked while taking out one of his shining glasses to polish it again. "I'm not sure what you are talking about, my dear one."

"_You _are in front of the Dark Lord! How come that you_ dare _to treat him as some of your other customers!" One of the Death Eaters who entered with their Lord hissed.

"My dear Rudolphus" Tom replied. "I don't dare anything. The boy is no customer of mine, I know, and I would never dare to treat him like a customer when he isn't one."

"That's not the point, innkeeper!" Rudolphus barked.

"I know" The innkeeper grinned. "I know, my boy."

"Then when you know, why aren't you treating him with the respect he should be treated with?" This time it was Rudolphus' wife Bellatrix who spoke.

"When he is old and wise enough, I will think about it, my dear. 'Till then I will treat him like all the others."

"But our Lord isn't like the others." Fenrir barked.

"He isn't, is he?" The innkeeper replied without concern. "I saw a lot like him. They came, they demanded, they left. When he treats me different I will do the same. I will not change my behaviour when he doesn't."

At this, Fenrir growled and Bellatrix and her husband drew their wands but it were Voldemort's words which stopped them.

"You should stop this behaviour, innkeeper." Voldemort said to Tom. "We are here for just one reason: I am here to give a pureblood like you a choice."

"A pureblood, you say" The innkeeper spoke. "So if I would be a half-blood I wouldn't get this choice."

"Maybe" The Dark Lord replied. "Maybe you would get it. I heard your family is an old one. You are the last of them, so maybe you would even get this choice if you would be a half-blood."

"How come, you know about my family, my dear?" Tom replied interested.

"The ministry has documents about everyone." Bellatrix snickered. "Even about a nearly Squib like you."

"It has, hasn't it?" Tom sighted while his fingers brushed over his counter. "And some of them are just a bunch of lies no-one ever discovered."

"So you tell us your file is just a lie? Do you want to take us for a ride?!"

"I will not… maybe." Tom grinned while playing with the shining glass in his hands. "Say, what is the choice you are giving me?"

"You have just one chance. Join me or die." The Dark Lord answered coolly.

"That's my choice, Tom?" The innkeeper asked.

"Don't Tom me, innkeeper!" The Dark Lord hissed. "When you dare to do that again I cannot guarantee that this choice will remain!"

"I understand, my boy" The innkeeper replied while changing glasses.

At this the red snake eyes narrowed.

"Your answer, innkeeper, before you annoy me too much."

"I never before had to choose." Tom said.

"Now you have to." The Dark Lord replied. "Choose."

"It would be better to choose right, Tom." Rudolphus filled in. "Choose wise. It will be your dead, when you choose wrong."

"That's what you say, my dear." Tom answered. "But I still haven't heard the choice I have."

"We _gave _you the choice! Join us or die, that's your choice!" Rudolphus hissed.

"That seems not like a good choice, my boy" Tom sighted. "When that's my choice then there is nothing to choose."

"Nothing to choose? Are you deaf, old man?" Fenrir growled.

"Am not, I think." Tom replied while putting back the finished glasses and taking out the next one. "But for a choice, there has to be something you are able to choose before. The choice you are giving me is nothing for me because I am unable to choose from it. I have never before chosen from it when others asked me to, and I will not do it now."

"So that's your answer?" Rudolphus asked.

"I'm afraid, it is." The innkeeper replied.

"So you are choosing death." Voldemort concluded.

"Death?" The old innkeeper asked. "I said I cannot choose and you say I have chosen death with this answer?"

"When you don't answer, you choose death, that's how it is." Bellatrix snickered.

"I cannot choose death. I might be old but as long as I am needed I am unable to die." Tom shrugged.

"So you are joining us, innkeeper?" Rudolphus asked.

"No. There is no way that I would choose your side just because I am unable to choose the other choice." Tom answered. "Give me a choice I can choose and I will do it. Until that, I will not choose anything."

"Your answer said all, innkeeper." Voldemort hissed. "Your behaviour also does. You do not want to join me, so there is nothing you can choose. You will get the treatment every person who refuses me gets. _Crucio!"_

Red light shot from his want to the innkeeper. The old man just stood there. No-one had ever seen the innkeeper drawing his wand. There also was a rumour that the innkeeper didn't have one at all.

Now, with the curse flying at him, the innkeeper just stood there, watching. His eyes, normally an inconspicuous blue suddenly lightened up. The blue got deeper and suddenly shone by itself. Then a glass shattered in the cupboard and another one followed straight. Blue light emitted from the shards and suddenly started to surround like a faint shield the old innkeeper. The red light of the curse hit the old man and vanished in his body as if it never had been there at all.

When the curse vanished in his body the Death Eaters became silent. Voldemort himself starred at the defenceless man in front of him, unable to guess what had happened a minute ago. But when the innkeeper spoke he got angry with him.

"My dear Tom" The old innkeeper had said with a silky voice no-one ever heard before. "My dear, dear child. Do you really think such a low-live and flawed curse is something that will harm me? Leave or try again, my boy. Maybe this time you will come up with something more creative."

The innkeeper mocked him, him, the great Lord Voldemort! No-one had ever dared to mock him… and no-one would ever dare again.

"_Crucio!" _This time the force behind the curse was ten times stronger than before. The difference instead was nothing. More glass shattered and the curse just vanished like the one before.

"This is pointless, my boy" The innkeeper said. "There is no way it will harm me. There is no way this will make me choose. Others have tried it before, others will try it after you. It will not work. It never did, it never will. Try something different or go. I will have customers, I won't have all day."

This time his words reached the Dark Lord and let him feel unsure about himself. There never had been a time in Lord Voldemort's life, the curses had ever not worked. So he felt slightly not at ease now.

He pointed his want again at the innkeeper, but now, his voice was trembling. "_Avada Kedavra" _He cursed.

This time one entire shelf of glasses in the cupboard shattered. The gleam emitted from the shards was an angry red. The old worn wand in Tom's sleeves began to glow white with cool, deadly light.

The red mist of the shards attached itself to the innkeeper like a second skin, letting him glow like an unearthly creature just seconds before the green light of the killing curse hit him.

A white flash of lightning poured out of the old innkeeper when red and green met. It struck at the ceiling and hit the wards of the inn, recharging them like a mini power station. The innkeeper however stood there unharmed, not reacting at all. Instead his eyes shone like stars and pierced the Dark Lord in front of him.

"I told you. I never had to choose before, Tom." The innkeeper said. "And you weren't the first who tried to make me. Now go, you had time enough to play. It ends here. My inn isn't a playground for you and your comrades."

"Leave?!" Voldemort hissed after hearing these words. "Leave?! You are talking to the most powerful wizard in the world and you dare to tell _me _to _leave?! _I will break the shield you put around your body and torture you to death, innkeeper!"

With that, the old innkeeper put down the glass he had been polishing and that still was in one piece and laid his palms on the counter. "Leave now. Play war elsewhere. I have no patience with misbehaving children like yourself. And I dare you to disobey me. I will lock you out forever if you do, Tom." He warned the powerful, dark wizard in front of him.

The answer of the Dark Lord was a piercing glance at his opponent. "So you dare to veto me!" He hissed. "Who are you to dare me to disobey you!?"

"I'm Tom." The other one replied while smirking. "I'm Tom, innkeeper of _The Leaking Cauldron. _I'm the man who told you to leave his home. Who else should I be? Now, go!"

"_You…! Kill him! Let this bastard die from your hands!" _Voldemort roared and his followers, still shocked from their leader's inability to kill the innkeeper with magic obeyed. Fenrir Greyback jumped at the old man, his claws and teeth ready. This time there was no lightning, no glowing mist. Fenrir hit the innkeeper with his teeth and claws. But there was no flesh to plunge into, no blood to consume, no skin to chop up. His teeth hit granite, his claws diamond. And the glittering blue eyes in front of him promised him pain beyond relief.

Then pale hands like stone clasped around his throat and pulled him away. The old, crooked and bold innkeeper was gone. In his place stood a man with eyes like ice and a power that shone through every inch of his powerful body.

"I gave you a choice" This man whispered. "I said leave and you will be able to return. You did choose to disobey me." With this the old man's eyes flickered to Voldemort. "A child who disobeys the first time will be warned. Maybe there will be more warning when it still doesn't get it. In the end however it will be punished. I warned you. Three times. This time, you will be punished."

With that Tom threw the werewolf away as if it was just a light little stick, thrown for a dog on the walk.

"You are banned. You will leave and never return. This inn is closed for you and your men. This is my last word."

The thoroughly polished glass on the counter shattered.

And before any of the Death Eaters could start to snicker a gust of wind blew through the inn and forced them to close their eyes. And when they could open them again they stood in front of the inn, unable to set foot in it again.


	8. The Chess Master

_And another chapter. This is after the attack on Diagon Alley, still between fifth and sixth year._

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_8. The chess master_

Chess is the game of kings. Wars were lost and won on the chess set. Pawns had fallen. Kings had lost their crown and queens had won the game.

Chess was a game of war. There was no leader who did not know how to play chess.

Once, a long time ago, Tom had been a chess master. He had played the game better then everyone, he had won and won and won. Until there was nothing left to win anymore.

And then he had lost.

He had lost a game and seen that it was enough. He had seen too many kings and queens, knights and bishops and pawns – so many pawns…

So he had turned away from the chess set and turned to the humans.

And he had understood that a chess master was no-one that should lead a human. A chess master could not see humans. A chess master saw a chess set with kings and queens and knights, bishops and pawns.

And still the chess masters were the leaders of the world...

A few days after Voldemort's banishment Dumbledore returned to the inn. He was tired and struggling to just stay awake on his feet.

"Hello Tom" he greeted.

"Good Day, my dear" Tom answered and started to polish a glass. "A drink my dear?"

"I shouldn't…"

"One drink – five minutes to rest, not more" Tom answered.

The headmaster sighted, but then he nodded.

Tom took out a glass and poured the man some whiskey.

"Sit down" he said. "Rest."

"There is no time to rest" Dumbledore answered. "We're at war, Tom."

"There is no war, child" the innkeeper answered. "Terrorists, yes. But no war – not now, at least."

"There is a war, my friend. And the ministry finally sees it."

"I told you they would understand it eventually, my dear" Tom answered. "And you should not shoulder it all by yourself. Seek aid. Tell those you trust about the things you discovered – you should not do that alone. The boy should not be alone later on…"

"I do not know what you are talking about" the headmaster denied.

"You know" Tom said. "I'm talking about the child who you dared not to train."

The headmaster stared at the innkeeper.

"How do you…?!"

"Know?" Tom asked. "I do not. But there are a lot of rumours that cross this doorstep. It is not hard to guess."

"So will you tell others to aid him?"

"I still do not know what you are talking about…!" The headmaster denied.

"You know" Tom said again. "And I will kill you myself if you get my boy killed because of your meddling."

"Your boy?"

"My boy" Tom answered while telling nothing. "Now rest, my dear – think about your actions later on."

"There is no time to rest" the headmaster said again. "The Diagon Alley has been attacked a week ago. I just came by to see…"

"There is nothing to do for you. Aid elsewhere."

"I heard there is a lot destroyed" Dumbledore said. "They will need help to rebuild their lives…"

"There has been a lot destroyed" Tom allowed. "Some shops will be unable to open in the next time. There is nothing that hasn't been damaged."

"Is there?" the headmaster asked. "Your inn seems fine to me."

"It is" Tom said, concealing a grin. "It is, my dear one."

"So there are people who had luck" the headmaster said and Tom kept silent.

The headmaster was a great man. The headmaster was a man of the Greater Good. He saw kings, queens, knights, bishops and pawns. He did not see humans – not often, that is.

And Tom was just an innkeeper. He was a pawn that had no place on the chess set except that it was there. It was exchangeable.

"Once, headmaster" Tom whispered while the old man succumbed the sleeping draught in his whiskey. "just once you should think about the ability of the pawn to become a queen one day…"

And then he said nothing. He just watched the headmaster sleeping. And when the headmaster woke he had no time left. He just paid and vanished – back to his office, full of kings and queens, bishops and knights. Full of everything but the pawn who could turn into a queen if he just wanted to do so…


	9. Visitor in the Night

_And another chapter. This time it's the sixth year for Harry (not that there's a Harry in that chapter…). The chapter expands over several month. _

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_9. Visitor in the Night_

"Tom" The voice was low, filled with silent pain.

Tom sat up.

It was way past midnight a few days before Christmas Eve and the inn had closed for the day some hours ago.

Tom blinked, then he heard it again. A whispered, pleading "Tom".

Tom dragged himself out of his bed and rushed down the stairs without looking for a dressing gown.

He unlocked the door and opened it.

In front of it stood a shadow, barely able to stand anymore.

"Come in" He ushered his friend in.

"What happened, cutie?"

"The Dark Lord." The answer was all that was needed.

"How bad?"

"There's a gash on my chest. I'm not sure…" The boy did not carry on but he didn't have to. He never mentioned his injuries. To do so, it had to be grave.

Tom slung his arm around the boy's waist carful of injuries and started to help him up the stairs to the room next to his own. There he laid the boy down in bed.

"Let me see" He said, opening the black robe the boy was wearing. The white tunic beneath was red from blood. He carefully also removed the tunic and was met with a really horrible wound.

"Someday I will be tempted to kill those men" Tom murmured while opening one of the cupboards. In it, there were several bandages and clear potions – healing potions, but nothing a potion master today would brew.

"Do it. I would like to have a good laugh, my friend." The boy answered while breathing hart to keep down the pain.

"Don't support my delusion, brat!" Tom scolded the injured one while starting to treat the injuries. The boy hissed with pain when water-clear potions were rubbed in the open gashes.

"I would not support any delusion, imbecile." He finally replied to Tom. "So don't suggest it is a delusion that you could take on Dumbledore and the Dark Lord while blind sighted and bound."

At that, Tom sighted.

"I'm old, Severus, cutie. There is no way for me to get involved with them."

"I know" The other replied. "But dreaming is still allowed."

Then he stayed silent while Tom treated his injuries.

It was when Tom was about to leave the room, when he spoke up again.

"I will not survive that, will I, old man?"

"Severus, cutie…"

"No! It's alright, old man", the boy interrupted. "I understood some years ago, that surviving will be out of reach. Just… will… will there something left of me? Or will I just be the pawn of great Albus Dumbledore, unable to do anything without his guidance?"

Tom stayed silence at these words.

Finally he replied.

"Give me a name, Severus."

The other man blinked, clearly lacking understanding.

"A name?"

"You have keen eyes and I am old. Give me a successor. You know your children, you know me. Give me a successor and you will leaving something behind yourself, even if you are just a pawn in great Dumbledore's chess set."

The boy hesitated.

"I…" he finally said. "I will think about it."

Tom nodded and with that left him behind to recover in the night.

When the boy left the next day, healed and fully able to play traitor again, they had not exchanged another word.

And while Tom went on with his life, he heard about the deeds of the Death Eaters.

Then again the boy was hurt. Again, Tom mended him. And again the boy left the next day, without explanation, without a single word. And it kept going. The boy would come, would be treated and left.

A few month later, Tom heard about the murder of Albus Dumbledore. He was not sorry for the old man. The Headmaster had been dying long before. Tom hoped, the boy would return to him – and he did.

A few weeks later the boy was back, slipping in in the middle of the night and bawling his eyes out in the nightgown Tom was wearing.

He did not say much. But what he said was enough.

"I killed him" he said and Tom embraced him, knowing that there was nothing he could do to extinguish the agony the boy was feeling.

"I killed him. I killed him! _I killed him!_"

Tom just patted his back until the boy found his cool again.

"I will bring you a whiskey" he finally said and stood up to fetch the glass.

Some hours later the boy was gone again.

The next time, the boy came, he was distraught.

"I was named Headmaster" he said, as soon as he entered. His shirt was again red from blood and Tom took out his healing potions.

"You will do it right" he said soothingly while disinfecting the wounds.

"The Carrows have been chosen to aid me."

"You know what to do. You know your way" Tom answered. He knew the boy would follow his path, even if there was nothing at the end of this path but death.

"I will not be able to keep safe anyone."

"I am sure you will find a way, cutie. You always have and always will."

And while he tended the wounds of the boy, he soothed him and strengthened him with his words. And when the boy left, he was strong and untouchable like he always had been.

Tom's gaze kept following the lad until the boy apparated away. Then Tom returned his attention to his shining glasses.

"Be safe, Severus" he whispered and shattered one of his glasses. The glass Severus had been drinking from just some hours ago. It vanished in red glowing dust. "Be safe until your death."

Tom would never hear from him again.


	10. A Final Day

_This chapter takes place on 2__nd__ May 1998, the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. It's Harry's seventh year (if he would go to school, that is) and Voldemort's on the loose._

_I'm sorry that there's not much scenery in this chapter but I had no figure to interact with Tom at that date – they are all at Hogwarts after all…_

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_10. A Final Day_

It was a gloomy day in the inn. Since the beginning of the war Diagon Alley and _The Leaky Cauldron _had been nearly empty. Sometimes a hasty, quiet visitor came by, running through the inn to Diagon and back again.

Dark creatures had passed the inn, Snatchers lingering in Diagon Alley. But as much trouble as Diagon Alley had – _The Leaky Cauldron _had not seen Death Eaters since the day, Tom Riddle had tried to kill the innkeeper.

They all had lost the allowance to enter the inn that day.

So Tom Riddle had been sending his non-marked scum. They could enter and pass. But there was no Snatcher even thinking about trying to snatch a Muggle-born in _The Leaky Cauldron. _After the second time standing outside the inn – being beaten by the old innkeeper without him doing anything more important than shattering a glass – others of Voldemort's followers did not try to anger the innkeeper.

_The Leaky Cauldron _was a neutral zone, not worth fighting over.

And this neutral zone was used by the sly ones and those with incredible luck.

Some clever Muggle-borns with money had booked a room in the inn, escaping the Snatchers, some others just had fled to the _Leaky Cauldron _just to find out that they were suddenly safe. The most of them were clever enough to stay after discovering this irregular safe place in a world that was chasing them everywhere else.

The rooms were booked-out, but still some Muggle-born witches and wizards entered the inn and didn't leave it again. They started to share room and sometimes bed with strangers, just to stay safe from the Snatchers.

Tom didn't mind.

He had no part in the war and as long no-one dared to act upon their war-beliefs they were all welcomed to stay. There was no difference in race, blood or magic. Goblins and Wizards, poor-bloods with faulty beliefs and Muggle-born, they all were cramped in the tiny rooms of _The Leaky Cauldron, _waiting for the end of war.

An old radio had found its way on the counter, sending _Potterwatch _and music.

The rescued ones in _The Leaky Cauldron _instead had many time to their hands, often wondering how they could still be free, being in one of the houses, everyone knew. Still, they could see Snatchers pass by, sometime even entering the inn, without them even trying to catch them.

The first few time the refugees had been stunned with fear, when the Snatchers entered; but finally they understood that the Snatchers would not catch them as long they would stay in the inn itself. When they left the inn, they were on their own.

Like that the most of them discovered the inn was a neutral zone – the others were told by those who came before them. So they stayed in the inn and watched the snatchers pass and growl at them – but still not trying to catch them…

"We're here – so why are we safe?" they often asked themselves and others. "Why don't they try to catch us?!"

It was a riddle no-one was able to solve.

Finally Dean Thomas reached the inn. He had come from a wild goose chase across the country, no-where safe and no-where to go.

He just had returned to the _Leaky Cauldron _because he needed something to eat and the inn had been next. He entered the neutral zone at a time when snatchers were sitting at the counter.

When he saw them, he froze. But the snatchers just growled at him and returned to their whiskey.

"They will not try to catch you here, boy" an old man told him and winked him in. "There is no fighting in this inn."

Dean looked around. The inn was filled with much more people Dean had ever seen in the old, shabby inn.

"Why?" he finally asked.

"They simply don't" the old man answered shrugging. "Some others told me that they fear to be thrown out. Some others say there is old magic on this building – magic that does not let them do anything. Others say that old Tom has talked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and has made a deal with him. Who knows what really happened…!"

Others said the same. So Dean finally decided to ask Tom and when the snatchers left, he did.

"Why are we safe here?" he asked.

"I have once solved the problem of a Riddle." Tom answered cryptically. Dean blinked, unsure what to think.

"Okay…" he finally said and decided not to ask again.

And when others would ask the innkeeper, the old man would reply the same: "I have once solved the problem of a Riddle."

And the others would laugh at him, thinking that he was joking – but that was like Tom liked it best.

And while the world succumbed to chaos, the people in _The Leaky Cauldron _were safe from the world out there. They were not hunted. They were not maimed. They were safe in the inn of simple innkeeper Tom. They waited and watched.

It was a gloomy day. The inn was full, people were stepping on each other's toes. There were no snatchers today. There were just refugees. Sitting everywhere, waiting gloomily for news, waiting until it was time for _Potterwatch._

And while they waited, Tom's blue eyes suddenly started glowing. He turned and looked at his glasses, counting them, waiting until his eyes lost the fire in them. Then he chose one of his glasses, polished it and turned again to face the crowd.

Finally _the day _had come and Tom used a spoon to knock it against his chosen glass. The others silenced and turned to look at him. There had been no news from anywhere, but still – Tom simply _knew_.

"This is the end of the war, my friends" he said and let them laugh until news came that Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, had lost his life in the battle against The Chosen One.

And while the others started celebrating, a single tear slit down old Tom's face and he shattered the glass he had chosen, the glass he had knocked against with his spoon, one of his best polished glasses.

The shards of glass glowed an eerie blue and then hundreds of soft blue flames started to adorn every free inch of the room except of the floor.

"For the fallen" Tom whispered. "For your legacy, my boy." And then he said nothing anymore. Instead he returned to his usual business and ignored the partying people.

The blue flames kept burning, not noticed by many. Hour after hour, day after day, week after week. They burned until the deep grief of the last one that had lost someone in war, had dulled to a faint hurt and way after that…

They burned like the blue flames that had burned in the inn before. Like the flames that had burned after Grindelwald, after his predecessor Lord Morigan and Morigan's predecessor and this predecessor's predecessor…

They had not all burned in the same inn – but they all had burned to honour the fallen. An honour every fallen should receive to not be forgotten.

And Tom had honoured them all…

And while people returned to their daily lives, Tom waited on the tables of his inn. He talked to the people, maintained the rooms they booked and stood behind his counter, polishing his glasses. The common wizard greeted him before entering Diagon Alley, sometimes they would stop and have a non-saying chat with him. Some of them would book one of his rooms or eat in his inn.

Tom wasn't a very good wizard. He was able to do some cleaning spells or other ones that would come handy for an inn. But he definitely never had been to Hogwarts, so he could not be a very powerful wizard… and because of that he was ignored by all that thought themselves stronger then him. He was, after all, no risk for them at all.

They came, they talked, they walked away, never aware of the eavesdropping ears behind the counter, never aware of the sealed lips and the sharp eyes watching.

His name was Tom. No-one ever asked anything further. His name was Tom, innkeeper. He was the owner of _The Leaky Cauldron. _There was nothing more to it. He was bald, he had no teeth and he had a crooked posture. There was nothing more to that silent man, who seemed to be old as hills…

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_That's it – or, well, not all._

_If you're interested I might add an epilogue – something about: Who the hell is Tom?!_

_Interested? _

_Maybe you could guess who he is… I know, it's not easy. I did not tell you a lot about him, after all…_


	11. Epilogue: A Girl at The Counter

_The Epilogue – the summer after year seven. Somehow sad that that's the end, but there was no book to base on anymore… and I think the epilogue will end this fic nicely._

_And I also finally tell you who Tom is… (just if you're interested, that is xD )_

_I hope you enjoyed it and I would like to know your opinion._

_Thank you._

_And now on with the story for the last time…_

_**Disclaimer: **__all JKR's, not mine…_

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_Epilogue: A Girl at the Counter_

The war had ended. And while the wizardry world started to assort its life, old Tom was standing at his counter in _The Leaky Cauldron _polishing shining glasses. His bar was like always. Sometimes it was full of people, sometimes it was empty. The people went through to Diagon Alley, they used its floo, they stayed to eat or to sleep. It was like always and it would not change forever.

"I know who you are." A young girl sat down on one of the chairs at the counter. She was seventeen and definitely a survivor of the battle at Hogwarts.

"And I know who you are, young Hannah Abbott." Tom replied and cocked his head. "But… do you just know who I am or do you know, who I used to be?"

"That's a good question" The girl replied. "I think I know both."

"Do you?"

"Yes." The girl now narrowed her eyes at him. "But I don't know why you are still here. Voldemort is gone… you are not needed anymore."

"I have never been needed in the first place, my girl." The innkeeper replied. "On the other hand I have never been needed more than now."

"Are you sure about that? Voldemort's gone. Why should your power be needed when there is no-one to rescue anymore? They are all safe now."

"I never rescued anyone from any dark wizard" Tom replied. "I don't care if they perish. My power does not safe anyone from his fate."

"But once you did rescue…"

"Once – but that was a long time ago and I was a different man at that time…"

"Then what are you doing?"

"I comfort them, I heal them." Tom answered without hesitation. "For the rescue they needed a different person. You know of whom I've been talking about."

"Harry" Hannah didn't even stop to think about her answer. "That's Harry's part."

"Yes, lovely, it is."

"Then what exactly is your part?"

"Like I said: I comfort and heal them."

"But how?"

"Look around, my dear. They are coming here, they are talking. It's my part to let them clean their soul by talking. Some of them need more, but for the most of them this is enough."

"Then what are you doing with people who need more?"

"I give them more. I've my whiskey for this. I watch them and choose my special whiskey for them. Whatever their problem is, there is always a way to help them to continue with their task… even if a little bit of magic is needed."

"That sounds as if you are busier than before."

"I am, sweetie, I am."

"So you will not leave for some years."

"No."

"Then, when I ask, will you teach me?"

"There is nothing to teach, young one."

"But you said yourself that you are doing more than selling whiskey. I would like to have an inn. Can you teach me?"

"So you came to ask me that?"

"Yes, I did. Are you cross about that?"

There was a silent between the young girl and the old innkeeper. The old man was looking at the girl, reading her intensions in her mind without telling her, what he was doing. The girl was sincere. In her mind, he could see her wish to have an own inn since she was small. When she had met him and had learned about him she set her mind on him teaching her. To his own surprise it had been Severus who had set the girl on him. Apparently the young man had been certain that the girl was the right one for Tom. He would not have helped Hannah to see the real Tom if he hadn't been sure.

"No. I'm not cross." Tom answered. "You are chosen to come to me."

"I am?" The girl in front of him seemed more than surprised. "I think you are mistaken."

"No, I'm sure, sweetie. You have been chosen to be my apprentice. You have been chosen to be the next owner of _The Leaky Cauldron._"

"I did not ask to be the next owner of the inn." The girl frowned. "I asked to be your apprentice. I did not ask anything further."

"I know. But it is time. I have been too long in this place. I need a new start somewhere else. I will teach you and leave in a few years' time for good."

"No! That's not what I want! You don't have to…!"

"I know, but it's time. I'm here too long."

"But, Merlin…"

"It's 'Tom' now, my dear."

"Yes, sorry, but…"

"There is no 'but'. You have been chosen. I will trust the choice of my late friend. He has chosen you and I will go with his gut feeling."

"So you're taking me in because he asked you to?"

"No. I'm taking you in because I asked him to choose. I would not have been able to. I would not know the young ones good enough to do so. But my friend always had had a keen eye. It has way keener than anyone knew. There is no way he could be wrong about you."

Now the young girl frowned.

"He would have to know me better than…"

"I told you – young Severus had a keen eye. You are my chosen. Will you accept?"

The girl eyes widened but she just hesitated a moment, then she nodded.

"So come back at Monday" Tom said, while seeing the future of the girl in front of him in his shining glasses. He saw her grow up, he saw her marry Neville Longbottom and he saw her happily working in the inn he was calling his until she was ready.

And so Tom decided to return to business as usual until the time came and the girl who had left his inn a few moments ago, was ready to take over.

And when the girl finally was ready, Tom handed her his keys gladly.

"But what about you?" she asked him.

"It is time to lay Tom to rest" Tom answered shrugging. "Don't worry. I will be fine. I always have."

And if some hundred years later a red haired man with startling blue eyes and unusual glasses would take over _The Leaky Cauldron _from his predecessor, the similarities to Tom's original appearance was pure coincidence.

The lad's name was Harry and if sometimes he was called Merlin by people who used the special rooms behind the counter, the people who did that were delusional. After all – Merlin was long gone.

"Good Day, my name is Harry. A drink today? I have a special whiskey to your liking…"

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_And, did you guess right about Tom? (I know at least one of you has… xD)_

_Information: Thought I should add that before I get asked by someone…_

_Yes, Tom's (Merlin's) new name is Harry. No, it has nothing to do with 'Harry Potter'. I chose Harry because of the saying 'Tom, Dick and Harry.' I do not like the name 'Dick' so that left me with 'Harry' – now thinking about it… somehow funny that Tom first shared his name with the villain and then with the saviour… well, no way changing it xD_

_I hope you liked my story._

_Over and Out._

_Ebenbild_


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